


More Than Words

by Moontyger



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Introspection, Leia-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:31:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things Han and Leia never talk about.  Leia prefers it that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Han has never asked Leia about her time as a prisoner on the Death Star. If he had, she's not sure what she'd have told him. When he and Luke arrived, she had very nearly been resigned to her fate. She hadn't _wanted_ to die, but after she'd been told of the dissolution of the Imperial Senate, after her home planet had been destroyed while she watched helplessly, she'd been certain no rescue was coming. Who, after all, remained to mount such a rescue? Who, having seen how far the Empire was willing to go, would dare to even try?

If the opportunity to escape on her own had presented itself, of course she would have taken it, and naturally she would have done her best to create that opportunity, but it would have been foolish to believe escape certain. So she had done her best to accept what was coming, promised herself she would neither beg nor show fear. For Alderaan, for her people, had she been allowed, she would have begged. Prostrated herself, kissed Governor Tarkin's boots, anything. Her pride – and she _was_ proud, she knew that – was not worth the life of her people. But her own life? That was different. She had been determined to die like a Princess, a credit to the long family line that had now been extinguished. 

But she wouldn't want to tell Han that. It's private, not the sort of thing she'd ever feel comfortable telling someone else. She's glad he doesn't ask and, likewise, she doesn't ask how he felt as he descended into the carbonite freezing chamber, or if he'd despaired when he'd been revived to find himself blind and weak. Leia knows he wouldn't want to talk about that either.

It's just the way she is – the way they both are, despite all the stereotypes about politicians and con men loving to hear themselves speak. It doesn't mean they aren't close or don't care; they merely know the value of keeping some things to themselves. For Leia, it's the product of her upbringing - royalty is only human, but a princess can't put her emotions above her duty. For Han, it's almost the opposite: he'd learned the same priorities she had, but through hard experience, not the patient instruction of a parent.

Leia had been called cold when she'd refused to take time to mourn Alderaan. Many had even thought her a monster, though none had dared say it to her face. They compared her unfavorably to Luke, who mourned more openly for a man he'd known so briefly than she did for her home and family. As for Luke himself, while he hadn't judged her, he had tried to get her to talk. Luke believed that sorrow shared was sorrow lessened, but Leia couldn't bring herself to believe that, nor to rely on anyone else to make her feel less alone.

Han had been one of the few who understood. Like her, he saw no point in dwelling on the past, no reason to speak of personal pain. They both take those things and put them in a box, then set it aside and keep on going. There's always work to be done, always far more important things demanding their attention. What, after all, is their personal pain when compared to their pain of the galaxy?

So when she wakes up at night, sweaty and shaking from yet another dream where she finds herself once more a prisoner, staring out a viewport that no amount of time will ever put far enough in the past that it will feel truly distant, he doesn't ask about her dreams. Instead, Han drapes an arm over her and pulls her close, offering the comfort of his presence in silence. Pressed against him, Leia relaxes back into sleep, more soothed by his gesture than she could ever be by any amount of talking.


End file.
